


i hear the thunder from outside (and the water's getting high)

by theomegapoint



Series: Kinktober 2019 [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Kinktober 2019, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bites, female pronouns for peter parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-12-24 14:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theomegapoint/pseuds/theomegapoint
Summary: “Do you,” she says, nearly unable to contain her excitement, “know what time it is, Mr. Stark?”“No.” Mr. Stark unwraps Peter's arms from around his neck, and Peter acquiesces easily. "I can guess, though, based on your excitement."“It's midnight!” Peter throws her arms up in the air triumphantly, and Mr. Stark chuckles. “Okay, well. It's actually a few minutes past midnight, but that's not the point. The point is that it’s my birthday and you owe me a present, Mr. Stark."





	i hear the thunder from outside (and the water's getting high)

**Author's Note:**

> "why is this tagged 'female pronouns for peter parker' but not 'genderswap' or 'female peter parker'?" well because those other tags would be inaccurate. language is fake and pronouns don't mean anything about gender, especially not in woo-woo a/b/o land. if you have a problem with that, go read someone else's fic.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” Peter whispers, “I’m here to surprise Mr. Stark.”

“Oh,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says, voice in a mock whisper, “of course. Mr. Stark is in his workshop. Happy birthday, Peter.”

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Idly, Peter wonders if F.R.I.D.A.Y. has a birthday too. She’ll have to ask her later. “Can you order a pizza in like, um. Like three hours, maybe?”

“Of course I can order a pizza,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says, tone indignant. “What kind of AI would I be if I couldn’t do something simple like ordering a pizza?”

“You right, you right. You the best, F.R.I.D.A.Y.!”

Creeping up the stairs to Mr. Stark’s workshop, Peter glances at her watch. She’s right on schedule, and even though this is technically a surprise, Mr. Stark _should_ be expecting her. Kind of. When she gets to the door of the workshop, Peter carefully pushes it open and then shuts it gently behind her.

Once in the workshop, Peter sneaks up behind Mr. Stark and wraps her arms around his neck before slumping down. Mr. Stark automatically compensates for the weight so he doesn't faceplant into the blueprints he’s working on, and Peter smiles into Mr. Stark’s hair. He smells like grease and metal, and it’s somehow comforting to her. Maybe it’s because she’s an omega. 

Mr. Stark finishes the line he’s drawing before he acknowledges that Peter is even there, and another person might think Mr. Stark was being rude but Peter knows better. It's not unusual for Mr. Stark not to acknowledge Peter if he’s working, because Mr. Stark doesn’t like to leave things unfinished or be distracted by work while Peter’s around so Peter doesn't take it personally. It's just who Mr. Stark is and that’s why she loves him. He’s a good alpha who gives her his full attention whenever she demands it. That’s why, when Mr. Stark finally puts down his pencil, Peter grins even wider.

“Do you,” she says, nearly unable to contain her excitement, “know what time it is, Mr. Stark?”

“No.” Mr. Stark unwraps Peter's arms from around his neck, and Peter acquiesces easily. "I can guess, though, based on your excitement."

“It's midnight!” Peter throws her arms up in the air triumphantly, and Mr. Stark chuckles. “Okay, well. It's actually a few minutes past midnight, but that's not the point. The point is that it’s my birthday and you owe me a present, Mr. Stark."

Peter stands in front of Mr. Stark, waiting expectantly, and Mr. Stark smiles softly at her. He tilts Peter's head up, pressing their lips together and _oh_. They’ve kissed before, although they haven’t done much else, but Mr. Stark’s kisses always make Peter weak in the knees. She melts into the kiss, letting Mr. Stark sweep her up and carry her out of the workshop into the bedroom. He sets her on the edge of the bed, and Peter tries to scramble up the bed, but Mr. Stark keeps her from going.

“Hey,” he says, eyes uncertain, “are you sure about this?”

“You’ve asked me that like a million times, Mr. Stark, and the answer doesn’t change.” Peter reaches up, touching Mr. Stark’s face. Suddenly, she’s aware of how small she is next to him. “I want you to claim me.”

For a moment they stay like that, and then Mr. Stark lets go of her and Peter rushes to get herself settled in the right position for what’s about to happen. Mr. Stark follows more sedately, stripping off his shirt and throwing it to the side before undoing his pants. Part of Peter wants to undress too, but she already knows Mr. Stark will want to do it himself. He’s told her that before, when he leans in close and tells her all the things he wants to do to her.

Once he’s undressed, Mr. Stark crosses the bed to loom over her. He pauses, and Peter can tell that he’s about to launch into some ridiculous speech about how he wants to know if she’s sure and a dozen other conversations they’ve had before. Peter surges up, crushing their lips together to try and cut Mr. Stark’s lecture off. She tries to flip them so she's on top, but Mr. Stark's knees are firm around her hips and she's got no leverage. Eventually, she stills again and Mr. Stark pulls away.

“So,” he says, voice low and quiet like she’s the only one who’s meant to hear it, “what does my birthday omega want?"

“I don’t know,” Peter says. She knows that there’s supposed to be sex involved in the claiming process, but she’s an omega and she’s never _had_ sex before so she doesn’t know what she should want. “It’s your present to me, Mr. Stark, shouldn’t you be the one deciding?”

“Now, now,” Mr. Stark says, touching a finger to the tip of her nose, “we’ve talked about this, Peter.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Peter looks away, swallowing. She’d almost forgotten there are rules. “I won’t forget again.”

“That’s my good little omega,” Mr. Stark says. He pins Peter down to the bed. “We've got all night, darling. I think I want to eat you out first.”

Peter doesn’t know what that means. She’s not—unlike some omegas, Peter was raised by both her mom and her Aunt May, who were what other people might call “sexually liberated omegas.” She doesn’t think they were that different from other omegas, just less traditional. So Peter knows what sex is, unlike some of the really traditional omegas, but she’s never really sure what Mr. Stark’s slang means.

Laughing in a way that’s more amused than mean, Mr. Stark shifts until he's between Peter's legs and undoing her jeans. Like it’s nothing, Mr. Stark strips them off her and tosses them off the side of the bed. Peter’s already wet, and she has been since she snuck into Mr. Stark’s office. For a moment, Mr. Stark doesn’t do anything but look at Peter and it’s embarrassing so Peter throws an arm over her eyes. It’s tugged away almost immediately by Mr. Stark, who wraps her fingers around the bars of the headboard. 

“You’re going to be a good omega and keep you hands there for me,” Mr. Stark says. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy.” Peter swallows, nervous. “I understand.”

Settling his hands on Peter’s hips, Mr. Stark dips his head down and Peter only realizes what he’s about to do before it’s too late to protest. His lips part and her takes her swollen clit into his mouth, sucking lightly. Peter gasps, fingers tightening around the bars of the headboard.

"Let me hear you,” Mr. Stark says. “Don’t be shy, Peter.”

“Daddy,” Peter says. “Daddy, please.”

It's desperate, and Mr. Stark must take it as a sign because his head dips down again and he starts teasing her clit relentlessly and settling into a rhythm. It doesn't take long before Peter is struggling against the way Mr. Stark is holding her down, her breathing fast and her knuckles almost white from the way she’s holding onto the headboard. Peter’s lips part and she tries to say something but can’t because she’s so overwhelmed. Mr. Stark doesn’t stop teasing her and it’s almost a surprise when she comes. Her breathing is still uneven and ragged when Mr. Stark shifts position to uncurl her fingers from the headboard. He kisses her and she can taste herself in the kiss and her hand find their way to Mr. Stark’s cock.

Mr. Stark obliges, letting her explore the way he feels. It’s different from the knotting dildo she has at home, warm and not quite fully hard. Her attentions fix that, though, and Mr. Stark breaks their kiss. He grips the hem of her shirt, and Peter is suddenly aware that she’s still half-clothed while Mr. Stark is very, very naked. She's not—Peter has seen Mr. Stark naked before, but it feels different in this context and Peter is sudden embarrassed. It weird to, like, be butt-naked around someone else and like.

“Daddy,” Peter says, quiet and desperate, “daddy, undress me.”

“Yeah?” Mr. Stark chuckles. “You’re such an eager omega, aren’t you?”

“Please, daddy.”

There’s a little bit of an omegan whine at the end of her words, and Mr. Stark kisses the corner or her mouth before tugging her shirt up and tossing it away. He undoes her bra with one hand and throws it somewhere else too. Once that’s done, he pins Peter down and kissing her. That’s something familiar, at least, even if the way Mr. Stark can pin Peter down to the bed with his full strength while kissing him is new. It's filthy, and Mr. Stark is obviously experienced so Peter gets kind of lost in making out with him until Mr. Stark lines himself up and _oh_. She whimpers into the kiss because Mr. Stark is thicker than her knotting dildo and he’s warm and real and it's not like fucking herself during heat because it's—

“Peter. _Omega_.”

She doesn’t know what to do with her overwhelming feelings, so she kisses Mr. Stark again. Peter can feel Mr. Stark smiling into the kiss as he speeds up and Peter would say something about it only _god_ does Peter love what Mr. Stark's doing and she can't bring himself to think that much at all and fuck _fuck_. His knot is expanding, threatening to split her in half, and just as he thrusts one final time, locking them together, Mr. Stark bites down on the junction where her neck becomes shoulder and it's. There shouldn't be anything hot about the way he looks down at her with her blood dripping from his fangs but it’s _so_ hot. Peter reaches up to touch her fingers to Mr. Stark’s face, and he bends down to kiss her.

"Happy birthday," he whispers when he pulls away, "my omega."

“Alpha,” Peter says, reverent. “_My_ alpha.”

There’s a lull of silence, the weight of their new bond settling, when F.R.I.D.A.Y. clears her throat.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, clearly not sorry at all, “but should I have the delivery boy leave the pizza in the oven?”


End file.
